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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133032">Violent Delights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie'>combatfaerie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World Wrestling Entertainment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Brollins, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Sexual Content, Werewolves, rollynch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:42:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Becky Lynch is the second-in-command of a werewolf pack led by Finn, known as The Prince. Seth Rollins is a young lieutenant in The Authority's pack. When both packs try to recruit the same werewolf, Becky's and Seth's paths cross—but will their stars, and their hearts, cross as well?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I won't have updates for this story for a month or so, because of Camp NaNoWriMo. But I'll be working on it in April, so I promise it's not abandoned!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"She looks like a goddamn Terminator."</p><p>Becky kept her focus on the tall woman in the fighting pit. Considering Drew had a build not unlike a Terminator himself, she didn't need to see his expression to know he was impressed with the potential pack recruit.</p><p>Nikki leaned in closer, practically draping herself over Becky's shoulders. "Are you kidding me? She looks like a piece of bloody art is what she looks like!" Nikki's frenetic enthusiasm had taken the pack a while to get used to, but now they couldn't imagine a full moon without her. "Her back alone belongs in a museum. Look at those delts!"</p><p>To Becky's left, Sheamus scoffed, downing half his beer in one gulp. "Australian, though, isn't she? Not really Celtic."</p><p>Becky cut him a quick look. "Not really your call. The Prince told us to come check her out, so here we are. If you don't like it, finish your drink and wait outside. It's not like we're spoiled for choice when it comes to recruits in the isles." Even though she wasn't the oldest of the bunch—that honour fell to Sheamus—Prince Finn had chosen Becky as his second, his emissary when he wasn't able to represent the pack in person.</p><p>Drew clapped Sheamus on the back hard enough that Becky heard it even with the noise of the crowd settling in for the fight. "Come on now, mate. You know McMahon's picking up wolves from all around the world. I heard he was even starting to look in China and Saudi Arabia. If we want any chance of standing against him, we have to expand our horizons too."</p><p>Before Sheamus could reply, though, the crowd erupted in roars—some human-like, some animal—as the other fighter entered the cage. After the referee checked both women for weapons, he stepped out of the cage and locked it behind him; the official's role in these type of fights was more ceremonial than anything. "Critters and creatures, welcome to the pit! All betting for this match is now closed!" The announcer magically amplified her voice to be heard over the crowd without upsetting the werewolves' sensitive hearing. "In the north corner, hailing from Miami, Florida—hereditary vampire Carina Cruz!"</p><p>The vampire in question bared her teeth at the crowd, and Becky wasn't surprised to see that her fangs were already bloody. Many vampires liked to feed just before they entered the pit to whet their appetite. "She's got fangs longer than a baby's finger!" Nikki gasped, finally settling into her seat beside Becky.</p><p>"And in the south corner, hailing from Adelaide, South Australia—hereditary werewolf Rhea Ripley!" When the bell rang, the announcer retracted her sound-amplification bubble and stepped down from the platform before anyone could complain that she was blocking their view.</p><p>Like most of the venue, the cage was laced with spells, letting the audience hear all the sounds of the fight over the raucous cheering. "Roll over, little bitch," the vampire spat, baring her fangs at her competitor as she lunged forward.</p><p>It would be the last coherent thing Carina said in the match, because Rhea responded with a hard right to the mouth, knocking her fangs out. Becky swore she could hear them land on the ring mat with a small <i>ting</i>, like dropped coins. Smirking, Rhea bent and picked up the fangs while her opponent was still groaning in pain, both hands clasped to her bleeding mouth. "Thanks for these," Rhea replied, tucking the bloodied teeth in her pocket as she kicked Carina in the head. "They'll make nice earrings."</p><p>Sheamus's expression was somewhere between disgust and disbelief. "How long does it it take a vampire's fangs to grow back?"</p><p>Nikki glanced up at him with a manic light in her eyes. "With a spell, about two months. She better get used to straws."</p><p>The vampire rallied a bit, but she was unable to ever really match Rhea's power and brutality. When there was more blood on the mat than could possibly be left in the vampire's body, the referee finally stepped in and called the match. "Your winner: Rhea Ripley!"</p><p>Rhea seemed immune to the wild cheers—as well as the bitter booing from those who had bet on the vampire—and held Becky's gaze evenly as the official raised her hand in victory. The announcer stepped back on her platform and conjured another amplification bubble. "Next match: Frank Everett, half-demon, versus Reese Townsend, spellcaster! Betting will be open for the next fifteen minutes!"</p><p>Becky and her pack remained seated while most of the audience went either to place a bet, get more beer, or step outside to smoke; after a healer helped the vampire out of the cage, a cleaning crew went inside and got to work. "Still worried that she's not really Celtic?" she asked Sheamus.</p><p>Sheamus shook his head, eyes wide. "McMahon has to have his claws in her already. No way a wolf like that isn't in a pack." Then he gave Nikki a hard nudge. "Stop your gawking. You're married."</p><p>"Aye. And Killian would gawk too, if he were here! She's a bloody masterpiece!" Nikki replied, glaring up at Sheamus. Her husband had been injured in a pack brawl and was staying behind with The Prince, but Killian and Sheamus had always had a fraught relationship.</p><p>Drew rolled his neck from side to side. "Are we staying for the other fights," he asked, "or trying to get a word with her now?"</p><p>This was what Becky hated most about being Finn's second. She was so used to looking to him for answers or directions that it was still habit to turn to her left and await his word. There was only Nikki there now, her gaze fixed on Rhea as the fighter headed to the locker room. "Let's go talk with her," Becky said at last, rising from her chair. Spilled beer made her shoes stick to the floor, but she pried them free and led the way to the backstage area, cordoned off by nothing more than a few extra layers of chain-link fencing and some security guards.</p><p>Even in the crowded armoury, full of supernaturals from every species and continent, Becky knew their little pack stood out. With her in the lead, Nikki at her right, and Drew and Sheamus behind, they moved as one, and other people moved out of their way instinctively. The first guard, a tall man covered in witch-sigil tattoos, greeted Becky with a curt nod. "How's The Prince?" he asked.</p><p>"Finn's good. I'll tell him you asked." Then Becky pointed to the fenced-off area behind him. "We'd like to talk to Rhea."</p><p>The witch nodded again, raising his wrist to his mouth and speaking into his metal bracelet. "Visitors for Rhea," he said simply.</p><p>The metal shimmered for a moment, red then orange then yellow; when the reply came, it was ebbing into green. "The Irish wolves? She says to send them in."</p><p>"And Scottish," Nikki said quietly, but Drew grabbed her shoulder and shook his head. While Prince Finn didn't discriminate against anyone in his pack based on their origins—aside from poking the occasional fun at some of the English werewolves—the pack had been founded in Ireland and was regarded as Irish by most packs around the world.</p><p>The witch acknowledged her with a small nod, however, as he opened the gate. "Last room on the right." His eyebrows spiked when Becky motioned Drew and Sheamus through before her, but he ended up bowing his head respectfully as she went past him. "Blessings to The Prince."</p><p>"Blessings in return," Becky murmured. It was almost reflexive at that point. As soon as people knew she was representing Finn, they made a point of treating her like gold—or at least treading very, very carefully around her. It was something she tried not to exploit, but even she had to admit she used the association for the occasional perk.</p><p>To call the anything beyond the gate a 'room' was being generous. The spaces were cordoned off with chain-link fencing, with some measure of privacy granted by makeshift walls: sheets of plywood, broken-down cardboard boxes, or even simply old bed sheets. The door to Rhea's space was open, and she was standing at a basin of water, wiping her arms down with a rag. Both the cloth and the water were getting pinker by the minute. "Don't worry," Rhea remarked dryly. "None of the blood's mine."</p><p>Motioning for the other three to stay in the corridor, Becky stepped just inside the room, leaning against the door frame. It was a temporary space, so there were no personalized touches that a locker room might have. A leather jacket was slung over a chair and a heavy chest—the promoter's one concession to keeping the fighter's personal items safe while they were in the ring—was propped open. Becky caught a glimpse of a motorcycle helmet, a wallet, and combat boots which were even more weathered than the ones Rhea had worn to her fight. "Hope you weren't getting paid by the minute," Becky replied.</p><p>Rhea laughed. "They wish. I stopped taking deals like that years ago." When the rag she was using was entirely stained, she dropped it into the bin and grabbed a new one to start working on her neck and shoulders. "Saw the lot of you out there during my fight. You know they sell promo pictures in the lobby, right? It would save you the eye strain." She glanced past Becky to wink at Nikki, who shuffled behind Drew's broad back.</p><p>"Have you found a pack up here yet?" Becky asked. She got the feeling that Rhea wasn't really a fan of small talk.</p><p>"Right to it, then?" Rhea bent at the waist and ran water through her hair. Supernatural fight pits had to set up at a moment's notice, so many of the venues didn't have showers; as long as they got most of the blood and other bits cleaned off, the majority of fighters were happy to wait until they got back to their hotels. "I've had some offers." Rhea straightened up and met Becky's gaze evenly. There was no threat there, no challenge, just the simple steadiness of strength. "I'm guessing you're here with one too?"</p><p>Becky nodded. "I'm here on behalf of Prince Finn. He would like to offer you a place in the Irish pack. Obviously it's not just Irish," she added quickly, gesturing behind her, "but we're based out of Dublin, so for simplicity's sake. . . ." She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask her next question. Finn hadn't specifically told her to, but he also hadn't told her not to, and Becky was getting the sense that he was grooming her for leadership by putting her in situations where she had to make her own decisions. "Mind if I ask who's already offered?"</p><p>Rhea's shrug made Nikki squeak, which made Drew chuckle in turn. "A pack in Estonia, to my surprise. The London pack." Then her mouth twitched up as she added, "The Authority. Which is the one you were really wondering about, I imagine."</p><p>There was little point in denying it. Like Drew had told Sheamus, the McMahons were scouting for werewolves all over the world, and with the global reach of their company, they could make offers no other pack could hope to match. "I don't blame them," Becky said simply. "You're a magnificent fighter. You'll be an incredible asset wherever you go. We can't offer what they can, obviously, but The Prince would still like to meet you—"</p><p>"Why doesn't he go by Devitt anymore?" Rhea asked, taking Becky by surprise. The fighter sat on a rickety chair and tugged off her ring boots, stuffing them in an old duffel bag before putting on the ones that had been in the trunk.</p><p>Becky kept her smile small. Whenever a prospect started asking questions, it meant they were at least interested. "That's not my story to tell. It's his. But I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you."</p><p>"If I meet with him," Rhea finished with a chuckle. "Nice play." She jammed her hand into her pockets and brought out the broken fangs. Dried blood streaks made them look like they were fashioned out of old marble, remnants of some ancient statue, and Rhea held her palm out to Becky. "A souvenir."</p><p>"For me," Becky asked, "or The Prince?" A little blood didn't bother her, as a werewolf or a human, and she took the fangs easily, sliding them in her own pocket as casually as if the fighter had given her nothing more than a handful of coins.</p><p>Rhea shrugged again, leaning over the trunk to pull out the rest of her things. "Doesn't matter much to me. So how do I get hold of your prince? The only place I'm going tonight is back to my hotel for a shower," she insisted, "and I doubt he'll want his girl away any longer than she has to be."</p><p>Becky didn't take the bait. She knew most werewolves either assumed she and Finn were dating or, when he was publicly seen with someone else, that Becky was his mistress. In truth, they had never been romantically involved, but they never tried to quash the rumours either. It was just one of many ways their small but fierce pack was often underestimated. "The Prince manages just fine without me," Becky replied with an easy grin, "but you're right: we're heading out in the morning." Then she reached into her pocket—luckily not the one with the bloodied fangs—and pulled out a glossy business card. "The number is only active for one use," she warned, "so don't call unless you're able to have a conversation."</p><p>"He really takes this prince thing seriously, doesn't he?" But Rhea lifted a shoulder in a shrug and tucked the business card in her bag. "How many wolves is your prince looking for? I know a few more from Australia and New Zealand." Sliding her gaze over to Sheamus, she smirked as she added, "Not really Celtic, of course, and not all pit fighters like me, but good wolves. Good people."</p><p>Glancing quickly at Drew, Becky tried to think quickly. While Finn was trusting her more and more in pack dealings, she didn't want to make an offer if she couldn't guarantee it. "Finn's always willing to talk," she said at last. It was vague, but not untrue. "If you have someone to recommend, let him know when you meet."</p><p>The fighter gestured at the cluster of wolves at her door. "Will all of you be there?"</p><p>Becky shook her head. "Finn generally prefers to talk to prospects alone. If you want one of us there, though," she added blandly, trying to figure out Rhea's angle, "it wouldn't be a problem."</p><p>"Good to know." Rhea stretched before tugging on her leather jacket. "Anything else you're allowed to tell me, or do I have to hear it all from His Highness?" </p><p>She snorted a bit at the end of her question, but Becky didn't think insubordination was going to be an issue. Finn might have been a prince, but his pack was more democratic than most. There was no doubt that he was the leader, but he was almost always willing to listen to different perspectives and to alter plans accordingly. "That depends on what you want to know," Becky replied. "But there's no point in filling your head with information if you don't join, right?"</p><p>"That's one way of looking at it." Rhea chuckled as she shoved the last of her things in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Tell your prince he'll be hearing from me. And a heads up, since we're being all friendly: I thought I saw an Authority scout in the crowd. If you don't want any of that mess, you might want to mind yourselves."</p><p>"What makes you think we're just here for you, eh?" Sheamus snorted. "You're not the only werew—" A hard elbow in the gut from Drew made Sheamus stop mid-sentence.</p><p>"Thanks for telling us." Becky straightened up and went to the doorway. "Great match, by the way."</p><p>Rhea laughed, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. "Aren't you supposed to butter me up with compliments when you're making your pitch," she asked, "not on your way out?"</p><p>"Praise," Becky corrected, stepping back into the makeshift corridor, "not compliments. Have a good night." Then she motioned her packmates forward and they headed back down the corridor. The guard opened the gate for them, nodded at Becky, and quickly locked the chain-link door behind them when two teenage vampires rushed forward, holding glossy photos of Rhea.</p><p>Now that they were out of Rhea's sight, Sheamus gave Drew a brotherly shove. "What was the elbow for, mate? I wasn't wrong."</p><p>"Drop it." Becky's tone made it clear it wasn't a discussion. In some ways, she hated being The Prince's proxy: it put her in a nebulous realm between <i>packmate</i> and <i>boss</i>, which made it difficult to simply qualify as <i>friend</i>. Thankfully Drew and Sheamus let the skirmish go; she really didn't want to have to pull rank on anyone. "Do we want to stay to see any of the other fights," she asked, "or should we head out?" While they had been talking to Rhea, the spectators had returned to their seats and the announcer was climbing to the top of her platform again.</p><p>"Critters and creatures, welcome back to the pit! All betting for this match is now closed!" The announcer's amplified voice barely reached Finn's wolves as they headed to the exit. "In the north corner, hailing from Whitby, North Yorkshire—sorcerer Sebastian Ditchfield!" A small section of the crowd started up a chant, and Becky assumed they were family and friends who had come to watch Sebastian fight. "And in the south corner, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio—hereditary werewolf Jon Moxley!"</p><p>When no one spoke up, Drew nudged Nikki forward. "Let's go," he suggested. "You can call Finn tonight and let him know what happened, and then we can have a quick run. I think Sheamus needs it."</p><p>"I'll run, all right—right over your bloody stupid face," Sheamus replied with a hearty grin. </p><p>When the four werewolves left the fighting pit and stepped into the open air, Becky let out a little sigh, hoping the others wouldn't hear. They would be home before lunch tomorrow and then she could be just another wolf in the pack—not The Prince's proxy, not Finn's assumed girlfriend, not the decision maker. The only mantle she wanted on her shoulders was her wolf pelt, and she would be wearing that soon enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seth. Rollins. He answered to both of them, but neither was his real name. Hunter had let him have a hand in choosing them to a degree, which was more than a lot of The Authority wolves could say, and he was so used to them now that when people—even his mother or brother—called him by his real name, it took a moment for it to sink in. </p><p>That was the way The Authority wanted it, of course. They wanted their wolves to be disconnected from their families, their former lives. The fewer bonds a werewolf had, the easier they were to manipulate. Seth hadn't abandoned his family—Roman most certainly hadn't forsaken his, and Seth pitied whoever tried to make that happen—but Hunter had a way of making The Authority invade every aspect of his wolves' lives. "Do you think Dean changed his name after he left?" he asked suddenly, glancing over at Roman. </p><p>They were sitting outside Hunter's office, waiting for their next assignment, but they dealt with the delay in very different ways. Seth's legs were pumping as if he were a drummer in the midst of his prized solo, while Roman was calmly swiping through photos of his children on his phone. "I wouldn't doubt it," Roman said absently, scrolling back to his main gallery with a sigh. "Why keep a label someone else gave you? I don't know how much he ever cared for it. He just wanted to wrestle and be in a pack; the name was just a formality to him."</p><p>Seth pressed his hands to his knees, trying to make himself still. Going into Hunter's office worried or fearful was never a good thing, but his anxiety kept roiling in his chest. "I guess. But... I mean, it meant something, right? The Shield meant something...."</p><p>The Shield. Another name he had only the slightest say in, but it had grown to mean so much to him. Seth had made plenty of mistakes in his early Authority days, but Hunter must have seen something in him, because he had summoned Seth, Roman, and Dean all to his office one day and told them they were going to be a mercenary unit, both a sword to attack The Authority's enemies and a shield to defend it from harm. The name had partially stemmed from that speech, but Seth at least had taken it to heart. He had grown up without a pack, having inherited his werewolf gene from his biological father, so his early days of shifting had mostly been alone. By the time he had found a local pack willing to take a chance on a young werewolf male—generally considered the most volatile and thus least welcome elements to any pack—he had already fallen into bad habits, ones that haunted his personal and professional life until Hunter recruited him. Roman had been a stabilizing influence on him, but the urge to slip back into those old habits was never far away, and it didn't help that Hunter usually encouraged it.</p><p>When Roman looked up from his phone, his gaze was sombre. Roman was only a year older than Seth, almost to the day, but their lives had taken completely different trajectories, and Roman possessed a maturity that was almost eerie in its focus. "Seth, Dean left the pack. He left The Authority. He did not leave <i>us</i>, okay? Remember that."</p><p>Seth gestured to the empty third chair between them. "But he <i>did</i> leave us. He's not here, is he?  We're part of the pack," he insisted, "so when Dean left The Authority—"</p><p>"<i>No.</i>" Letting out a soft snort, Roman tucked his phone back into his pocket and turned to face his friend. "You know why Dean left. He didn't have anything against you and me. We're his brothers. He said so himself. But he's the kind of guy that needs... space, and he wasn't getting it here. You have to respect that."</p><p>"Like <i>I</i> don't need space?" Seth challenged, rising to his feet. "Like you don't?" His feelings for Dean whirled between sadness and anger, and lately he never knew which was going to be loudest. That day, at least, it seemed that anger was winning the battle. "That's part of being in a pack, in a unit. You have to make sacrifices—"</p><p>Roman shook his head. "Don't make me say it, man."</p><p>"What? You have a wife and kids, and you're still here! Why is it different for him?" Seth wanted to say more—or maybe he just wanted to shout, to be loud, to take up space so the void Dean had left behind wasn't as empty—but then Hunter's door opened, revealing one of his secretaries.</p><p>To Seth, they all seemed mostly interchangeable. Blonde—and rarely naturally so—and slim, with breasts and bank accounts that both magically seemed to double in size after their first year of employment. This one mustn't have reached that magical one-year mark yet, because her breasts didn't look like bowling balls. "Hunter's ready for you now," she chirped.</p><p>"Nisa," Hunter's voice boomed from within, "no interruptions for an hour, okay?"</p><p>"Of course, sir." Standing back, Nisa pushed the door in further and motioned Seth and Roman inside. "Cell phones and all other recording devices stay in my office."</p><p>"Yeah, we know the drill." Making sure his phone was locked, Roman strode into the secretary's office and set the device in a small wooden basket. Too many disgruntled employees had tried recording Hunter in secret, hoping to catch him in a lie or some incriminating statement. Technology got smaller and sneakier all the time, but the fact that Hunter was taking preventative measures was another sign that he was angling to become the new pack leader when his wife's father finally stepped down.</p><p>Seth followed suit, feeling more naked without his phone than he did without clothes. Even in wolf form, he found himself missing the familiar weight of it against his hip. "Hey, Hunter," he said as he entered the main office. Roman, he noted, said nothing, merely sat in one of the visitors' chairs and clasped his hands in front of him. To some, it might look submissive, but Seth had seen Hunter adopt the same pose often enough to know it held a quiet sort of power.</p><p>Hunter shut the door behind them and stood there for a moment, hand braced against the frame. Seth watched his knuckles, looking for any sign of strain, but Hunter was too composed for such obvious signs of frustration these days. While he certainly still had the build of a brute, there was a reason his most common nickname was the Cerebral Assassin. Other high-ranking werewolves could pick your bones apart easily enough, but Hunter could twist your thoughts until you gave him what he wanted without a single drop of blood being shed. "What," he seethed quietly as he sat, "is going on?"</p><p>The questions that sounded rhetorical were often Hunter's most deadly weapons, so Seth looked to Roman. They were both crafty in their own ways, but Roman's maturity often applied a buffer that saved them from the worst of Hunter's wrath. "You summoned us for a meeting," Roman said simply. If it had been Seth, it probably would have come out petulant, but the older werewolf's voice remained unflappably neutral.</p><p>"I offer Dean the moon—shiny new contract, guarantees for his wife—and what does he do? He leaves. I set Rhea up to dominate at NXT and what does she do?" Hunter took a long swig of water, but neither Shield member spoke up to fill the silence. "She leaves. She was our strongest developmental star and we invested in her, and now she's in fight pits in the UK. I'm trying to build the strongest group of women I can—"</p><p>"Maybe if you stopped making them all lose to Charlotte...." At a sharp look from Roman, Seth shut up. Charlotte was another favourite of Hunter's, though Seth wasn't quite sure how far that went; he did know, however, from flings with some of the other women on the roster, that there were a lot of bad feelings towards Charlotte because of all the opportunities she received.</p><p>Hunter's glare was even harsher than Roman's, but to Seth's surprise, he didn't deny the statement. "I want Rhea back," he declared. "We've put too much work into her to have her go overseas and align with The Prince."</p><p>"The Prince?" Seth asked hesitantly. In some ways, it was better if Hunter got his tirades out of his system. Since he hadn't yet, Seth was going to err on the side of not saying too much. He also wasn't familiar with anyone called The Prince. Some still referred to Hunter as 'the King of Kings' and his wife was 'the Billion Dollar Princess', but those were the only two royal monikers he could think of, aside from ring names.</p><p>"Balor," Hunter spat. "Finn Balor. Fucker didn't even have the decency to drop the name when he took off. Stole most of my Celts too, over the years: Sheamus, Drew, Becky, Nikki...."</p><p>Seth and Roman shared a baffled look. Despite their relatively high ranking, they were still somewhat new to The Authority and there was a lot of history they hadn't learned yet; none of the names Hunter listed sounded familiar. "Rhea's from Australia, isn't she?" Roman said slowly. "Unless she has a Celtic background—"</p><p>"Hell if I know. I don't think he cares. He just wants to take my wolves—let me put in all the work of recruiting and training, and then he just swoops in...." Hunter trailed off and took another swig of water before glaring out the window.</p><p><i>Dean?</i> Seth wondered, trying to keep his expression blank. If The Prince wasn't fussy about Celtic ancestry, then maybe he would offer a spot to Dean as well. For all Dean's foibles—and there were a lot of them, some that made him very difficult to put up with—he was loyal to the core.</p><p>As much as Seth would have loved to entertain that thought, Hunter was ranting again. "Roman, keep the Bloodline here. I need Tamina to keep the women in line, and the Usos can lock down the tag team division again."</p><p>Roman nodded brusquely. His family was one of the most dominant werewolf lines in existence, and even though he certainly wasn't the oldest, he had the bearing of a natural leader—so much so that Seth often wondered why he wasn't leading his own pack rather than being a lieutenant in Hunter's. "Tamina's on it. She said Bayley's eye is starting to stray, so if you want to keep her, it might not hurt to make her an offer. New title, new contract, something. And Jimmy's almost healed up, so he and Jey will have the teams back in line in no time."</p><p>Then Hunter turned his fury on Seth. "And you. What did your so-called 'Disciples' ever accomplish? I gave you free rein to pick wolves you thought had promise and they delivered <i>nothing</i>."</p><p>Seth flinched. With Roman, putting him in charge of the Bloodline faction of the pack was a no-brainer. Seth had no such family ties, however, so he had tried to pick young, promising wolves that weren't fitting in well elsewhere, hoping they would be grateful for the opportunity. Austin Theory and Murphy had already returned to NXT, and Akam and Rezar had been quietly removed from the pack entirely. As Seth's first solo assignment, it had been a near complete failure. "There were injuries and...."</p><p>Hunter held up a hand to silence him. "Don't bother. Excuses get us nowhere. I want you two to go over to England and convince Rhea to come back." He slid a sealed envelope across the desk to Roman along with a loose paper that almost looked like a doctor's prescription. "There's a new contract in there. A list of offers."</p><p>Roman took the envelope gingerly and set it on his lap, tucking the loose paper in his pocket. "And if she's still not swayed?" For the first time in the meeting, he looked vaguely uncomfortable. "How far do you want us to go?"</p><p>When Hunter didn't answer immediately, Seth felt a chill. Hunter's silences were usually ominous, and he was just grateful he wasn't on the receiving end of this one. "Bring her back," Hunter said simply, rising from his chair, stoic as a statue. "Balor's stolen enough from me, from us. He may be playing at being a prince, but I am still the goddamn king!" The bass in his voice felt like thunder, a mere hint of the storm in the distance.</p><p>Standing smoothly, Roman met Hunter's gaze and Seth was proud—and a bit surprised—to see how steady he was; the envelope in his hands didn't shake a bit. "How far do you want us to go?" he repeated plainly.</p><p>Hunter rubbed at his beard, his one concession to his rougher self. While his wife would have preferred he looked every inch the businessman, there was no hiding the primal power he exuded. "As much as I'd love to have The Prince's head for my wall," he snarled, "he also has an incredible eye for talent. Hurt him, subdue him, break his will—but leave him intact enough that I can offer him a way out of the very deep, very dark hole you're going to dig for him."</p><p>Seth stood as well, not feeling nearly as confident as his Shield brother seemed to be. "And the others? The Celts who left?"</p><p>Hunter blinked in surprise, as if he had forgotten about them—and perhaps even Roman and Seth—entirely. "Finn's the leader. The others don't have his focus, his skill. Without him, they'll be lost. Break Finn enough that he crawls to us, and they'll come back too. Loyal to a fault."</p><p><i>Loyal to a fault.</i> Seth winced at that. He had just been thinking much the same about Dean. Loyalty, honour, devotion: he didn't think those traits shouldn't be turned against someone like a weapon. Before he could spare the ill-fated Celts another thought, however, Roman nudged him. They certainly hadn't used up the allotted hour Hunter had asked for, but Seth didn't want to linger either. "And if we run into trouble while we're there?"</p><p>The withering glare Hunter shot Seth made him feel like a child. "Deal with it. I pulled you out of NXT for a reason. Don't make me put you back."</p><p>Roman tugged on Seth's arm. "C'mon, man. We have shit to take care of before we go." He fell quiet as he herded Seth out of Hunter's office. Nisa was busy typing, so the Shield members retrieved their phones and let themselves out. When Seth went to go back the way they had come, Roman shook his head. "Not yet. Like I said, we have shit to take care of." He gave Seth a curious glance. "You've never done an overseas assignment before?"</p><p>Seth shook his head. "I was hoping to get one, but then the Disciples...." He trailed off hopelessly. The less said about his failed group, the better. He had always seen himself as a natural leader—maybe even Hunter's right-hand man, in time, eventually groomed to succeed him—but now he wasn't so sure. "If you'd rather work with someone else," he began, hating the tremor in his voice, "I understand."</p><p>"Hey." Roman gripped Seth's shoulders and shook him. "Don't think like that. We all screw up. It's what you do after that matters. Say your apologies, learn your lessons, and move on. When you dwell, you drown. You're my brother, man. You know that. There's no one I'd rather have with me." Then he nudged Seth forward. "Now come on. We need to arrange passports, expense accounts, all that. I'll show you how."</p><p>"You haven't travelled much lately," Seth pointed out as they walked down a corridor he'd never been in before. "Even for house shows. How's your wife going to feel about you going overseas?"</p><p>Roman laughed, but Seth saw the tautness around his eyes. "She'll be fine with it. She'll probably be happy to be rid of me for a few weeks."</p><p>"A few weeks?" Seth echoed. He hardly expected to have the matter resolved in a weekend, but he didn't know how long such matters normally took either. "Do you really think we'll get Rhea back? I mean, she was doing really well in NXT. She was practically guaranteed a call-up. You don't just leave a sweet deal like that."</p><p>"You do if you don't think it's going to continue." As they rounded a corner, Roman shrugged. "Listen, what you said about Charlotte—I mean, you're not wrong. We've all seen it. And not just with her. And sure, if you're the one reaping the benefits, it's easy to justify it, to stay and look the other way while other people fight for crumbs. Some people are quite happy to get the security and the paycheque, but Rhea doesn't strike me as one of those. Does she to you?" He waited until Seth shook his head to continue. "Did Dean? No. Dean loves wrestling too much. He loves being a wolf too much. He wanted something different for himself, for his family. Can't blame him for that. Can't blame Rhea either. She's a marvel, and if she thought Hunter was going to dull her down to a distant second-best... well, then I can understand why she started looking elsewhere."</p><p>Seth glanced around. There was no one he could see, but in an organization full of werewolves, that didn't mean there wasn't anyone around to hear. Roman didn't seem particularly concerned, though. "So you agree with her leaving?"</p><p>Roman gave a small shrug. "I agree with her doing what she felt she needed to do. It's not easy to stand up for yourself and claim your worth, especially for women in this industry. If she thinks she can get a better deal elsewhere...."</p><p>Pointing down at the envelope dangling from Roman's hands, Seth replied, "Hunter just told us to bring her back. You... don't sound like you want to do that."</p><p>"I don't," Roman admitted, slapping the envelope against his thigh. "Not particularly. But I'll go over and talk with her and show her the offer. We'll see what happens." With his free hand, he pulled out the small piece of paper and gave it to Seth. "You can submit the requisitions. Don't worry; I'll be right there, and I think Kate's on the desk tonight. She knows her stuff; she won't give us any trouble."</p><p>Seth glanced down at the paper. His name was at the top, along with Roman's, followed by a list: passports, driver's licences, bank cards, credit cards, cash. "What about the others?" he asked. "Finn and Drew and...." He knew Hunter had mentioned more names, but his attention had been drifting. Yet another thing he needed to work on if he wanted to ascend the ranks.</p><p>"We'll see what happens," Roman repeated, voice colder this time. He had the biggest heart of anyone Seth knew, but it didn't mean he couldn't be ruthless too. The rest of their walk was made in tense silence until they appeared at a door with a gleaming brass REQUISITIONS sign. "After you."</p><p>He didn't know what he was expecting. Maybe row upon row of sleek, polished guns and racks of designer clothes waiting to be altered to whatever wolf needed them. In reality, the Requisitions office was pretty plain, aside from all the plants. If there was a flat surface, it had a plant pot on it, and the whole room was infused with a rich, earthy scent. The woman behind the desk was currently talking to the plant closest to her, so both men kept their distance. "Oh, it's fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's nightshade or anything. What do you need, Roman? I thought you weren't doing trips."</p><p>"If that's a double entendre," Roman replied with a grin, "you better watch your mouth. Nah, Seth and I are being sent to the UK." He nudged Seth with his elbow. "The list. Looks pretty standard."</p><p>"Oh, right. Sorry." Seth set the list on one of the few plant-free spots on the desk. "First time."</p><p>Kate raised an eyebrow as she took the list and skimmed it. "Well, I'm sure <i>that's</i> not a double entendre. You both have current photos in the system, right? So the passports and IDs shouldn't be hard. They'll be ready in a day or two." Then she peered up at them both. "Unless it's urgent?"</p><p>Roman shook his head. "We want to leave as soon as we can," he confirmed, "but there's no firm date. Hunter didn't schedule any flights."</p><p>Seth glanced down at his feet. He hadn't even realized that; he had just assumed that, like always, Hunter would take care of the details. "I'm guessing they'll find a way to write us off TV for a bit?"</p><p>"They'll just focus on another feud or something. I think they're bringing Cesaro up," Roman remarked, "so he'll definitely be getting matches every week. Promos too. Helps fill in the gaps. You know how it goes." His voice softened at the end, and Seth wondered if he was thinking of Dean as well. The Authority had an eerie way of erasing people through silence, simply making you forget about them by never mentioning them at all. </p><p>Kate read the list a second time, making notes to herself on a tablet. "I'll have to double check with the card limits, because I know Hunter was cracking down on that, but everything should be done by Friday. Did you want to pick stuff up as it's ready, or just wait until it's all done?"</p><p>"When everything's done," Roman replied, "at least for me. What about you?"</p><p>Seth nodded, barely remembering to thank Kate before Roman steered him away. "I thought I was supposed to be handling that," he said when they were back in the hallway. The air immediately felt dustier somehow and Seth found himself wanting to return to the Requisitions office.</p><p>"It wasn't a tough list," Roman answered, "and you would have taken all night. I'd like to get back home in time to see my kids before they go to bed. You coming with?" Seth's official home base was up in Iowa, but since much of the pack business was conducted in Florida, he often ended up staying in Roman's guest house. In some ways, it seemed more like home than his own place did, which felt like just another in a long line of failures. "You can sign off on everything, I'll promise. I won't even go back in the office if it makes you feel better."</p><p>"Sure. If Galina won't mind," Seth added. He often felt like Roman's wife was silently judging him somehow, but she was always kind to him. It probably didn't hurt that the kids adored him, and if the kids were busy playing with Seth, that gave her some rare alone time with her husband. "Otherwise I can find a hotel."</p><p>"Not on my watch, man. Come on." Roman slung an arm around Seth's shoulders and scrolled through his phone with his free hand until he found his wife's number. "Hey, babe. The guest house is clean, right?" It was a guest house in name only, really, since Seth was the only one who used it; Roman had told him he was welcome to leave things there and Seth had started to, keeping some clothes he wouldn't miss and some basic toiletries. Having a second home—a haven of sorts—was almost as reassuring as having a pack.</p><p>Galina wasn't on speaker, but werewolf hearing meant Seth could hear her just fine. "Yeah, I had the cleaner go through last week. Is Seth coming back with you?"</p><p>"Yeah. Hunter's sending us to the UK," Roman added, "but we're waiting on paperwork and some other details. So Seth can help me pack and we'll grab all our gear before we head up to Iowa. Flying out of Chicago shouldn't be a problem. It'll cut down on flight time a bit, at least."</p><p>"That's the only advantage to living up north," Galina agreed with a laugh. "Seth, your fridge will be empty, but you're welcome to eat with us. I'll put in a grocery order for you tomorrow, okay?"</p><p>"Don't worry about me—" Seth began, but Roman quickly cut him off, curling a hand around his mouth to muzzle him.</p><p>"We're just grabbing our stuff and then we'll head out. Be home in an hour or so. Love you, babe." When Roman disconnected, he let go of Seth's face. "Brothers, remember? That means family."</p><p>"I know." Seth left it at that. <i>Family</i> felt so nebulous to him at times. He had never known his birth father, but carried his werewolf legacy. His mother had gone through several divorces. Part of him never felt like he quite fit in with his human kin, yet no pack—not his first one, not The Authority, not even The Shield—truly fit his heart. He kept hoping that one day he would find his place, his pack, but until then, it felt like yet another failure to add to the list.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Never enough. The run after meeting Rhea wasn't enough. The indulgent breakfast the next morning wasn't enough. Even speeding home to Finn, music blaring so loud they had been pulled over by three separate officers, hadn't been enough to take the edge off Becky's mood. Even as she felt her control waning by the second, she was doing her best to keep it from the others. As Finn's proxy, she was supposed to be calm and collected, after all, so she didn't have the luxury of losing her cool. The restlessness had been haunting her for weeks now, nebulous and volatile, and she hoped she could get it tamped down before she had to meet with Finn.</p><p>When she saw The Prince pacing outside as they arrived, however, Becky knew she wasn't going to be so lucky. "Go on, Princess," Sheamus teased, nudging her in the side. Even though he had been with the pack almost as long as she had, he was one of the ones who quietly believed she and Finn were truly a couple, no matter how often she told him otherwise. "Go 'make your report' or whatever you two are calling it this week."</p><p>"Hey." Drew was only about two inches taller than Sheamus, but he still managed to loom over him. "Leave her be. It's not easy managing a group of scoundrels like us." He gave Sheamus a hearty shove in the direction of the mead hall, modelled off the traditional Viking longhouse but with decidedly modern amenities. "Find us a table and I'll drink you under it in a minute."</p><p>Sheamus grinned broadly. "Now that's my type of breakfast! See you in there, lad." He loped off to the mead hall, greeting several other wolves on the way. </p><p>Nikki had already hurried off to check on her husband, which left Becky standing with Drew. Finn, strangely, was staying where he was, and his lack of movement made Becky suspicious. His pack mentality was steeped in trust and loyalty, but whenever any wolves came back from an assignment, he was often the first to meet them, much to the consternation of his guards. "Thanks, Drew," Becky murmured, forcing her gaze away from The Prince. Drew knew without the shadow of a doubt that she and Finn weren't involved, but he had sworn to her early on to play it whatever way she wanted. If it was in their best interests for Becky to look like the Prince's girlfriend, Drew was happy to bolster the lie. "I know it shouldn't get to me anymore."</p><p>"We all have our days, lasskicker. Don't worry about it." Then Drew jerked his head towards the mess hall. "Want me to rough him up a bit, tell him not to bring it up for a while?"</p><p>Becky shook her head. While she appreciated the offer, it was ultimately her battle to fight, and one she was quite happy to let rage on at times. It was just one more way she was underestimated, and that was an advantage she was loath to lose. "It's fine. It's a role to play, and if I want the perks, I know I have to put up with the rest."</p><p>"Just a role?" After he noticed that Finn was watching them, Drew moved subtly, turning so that The Prince wouldn't be able to read his lips. Werewolf hearing was incredible, but their camp was bustling with activity at the moment, so Finn would be hard-pressed to hear them over the din. "Have you given any thought to making it real?"</p><p>"With... Finn?" Becky did her best not to laugh. Finn was like an older brother to her. When she was a teenager and her home life was falling apart, she had sought solace in a number of vices, drugs among them, and Finn had pulled her out of that destructive spiral and set her on a new path. No matter what she did or how many times she messed up, his faith in her was unshakable. She wouldn't jeopardize that for a potential relationship, and even thinking about it felt wrong. He was handsome and funny, kind and smart—all the attributes she found attractive—but she just couldn't think of him in that way. "No. It... it wouldn't work. He's like a brother to me, Drew. You know that."</p><p>It was a small shrug, but on Drew's shoulders it looked like a tsunami. "Fair enough. The ruse won't hold forever, though. You know that and so does he. And when outsiders figure it out, you're not going to be untouchable anymore."</p><p>"I'm not untouchable now," Becky retorted with a sharp laugh. Finn's name—and the spectre of their assumed relationship—did afford her a certain amount of latitude, but it was by no means absolute. Plenty of werewolves—and vampires and witches—had taken their shots at her, and she had the scars to prove it. "But if you think it's a true concern, I'll bring it up with him. Just not today. I'd rather get this Rhea business sorted first." Drew's suggestion rankled, but she was trying not to let it fester. He was doing what any good pack wolf would do: alerting a higher wolf to a potential problem. She didn't want to discourage that and end up with an even bigger issue later on.</p><p>"Of course." Drew bowed his head in a nod and Becky thought he was done, but he used the motion to step even closer, whispering by her head. "Just don't forget, lass, that we don't only follow The Prince. We follow you too, and not because of Finn's word." Before Becky could reply, he clapped her on the shoulder and strode towards the mead hall, his hearty laugh booming throughout the centre of the camp as he greeted friends on his way to outdrink Sheamus.</p><p>Finn sauntered over slowly, his guards keeping a discreet distance, silent as shadows. "Welcome back, Rebecca." He was one of the few who called her by her full name, in part because he was one of the only ones she allowed to. She realized that fed into the misconception that they were involved, but she felt true names were a right that had to be earned, and Finn had certainly earned it. With a subtle flick of his hand, his guards quietly retreated. "Would you like to settle in first or can we talk?"</p><p>Part of Becky wanted to take the excuse and relax for a bit. She wasn't hungry and last night's run had been enough of a workout to last her for a few hours, so she really had no good reason not to get her debrief out of the way. No reason aside from the nagging unease that had been plaguing her, anyway. "I can talk," she said at last. "Where do you want to go?" Their makeshift village was designed to be easily dismantled; even their intricate mead hall could be taken down in half a day, if the entire pack was pitching in. For all their strength and numbers, they were still used to a nomadic life. </p><p>"Did you run yesterday?" Finn asked, peering at her curiously. </p><p>Becky knew better than to try hiding anything from him, but she still wondered what he saw. Was her gaze distant? Was her expression taut? She tried to radiate calm, but that was never her strong suit. "Yeah. After we left the fight pit," she added. "Figured we might as well make the best of the lovely tab you set up for us at the hotel."</p><p>That made Finn grimace. "That's a bill I won't be looking forward to." Then he rubbed his face, and for the first time Becky noticed the bleariness in his eyes. "All right. Let's walk...."</p><p>"If you want to run," Becky replied, "feel free. I can scout the forest for you and we can talk when you shift back."</p><p>Finn regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "Okay." He signed a few gestures to his guards, who nodded, then motioned Becky onto one of the forest trails. "I know I value loyalty," he muttered, "but sometimes I feel like I can't even look up at a bloody cloud without a guard checking for a sniper."</p><p>"Uneasy is the head that bears the crown," Becky replied as Finn stripped off his shirt, exposing the crown tattoo on his left shoulder. As he undressed, he handed the rest of his clothes to Becky, who bundled them and his sandals in his shirt. </p><p>"How's yours?" Finn replied, crouching down as he prepared to shift. "You take on a lot of the burdens and get few of the benefits in return."</p><p>Becky brushed off his concern. "Nothing horrible happened. So have your run and I'll catch you up after." She used the sleeves of Finn's shirt to tie the bundle together before waving it in his face. "Or I can just take this back to camp and you can come back naked."</p><p>Finn grinned up at her. "Nothing they haven't seen before." They shared a raucous laugh, startling some birds in a nearby tree. Between wrestling for a living and transforming into wolves, they had all become accustomed to being naked around other people. "You're sure?" When Becky nodded, Finn pressed his hands to the ground and started to shift.</p><p>Strictly speaking, there were amulets werewolves could wear which let them shift with their clothes on, and the pack often used them on assignments for safety's sake. When they didn't have to be so cautious, though, they preferred to shift naturally; the amulet's magic felt like oil in their fur, sticky and cloying, and often distracted from the glory of the run. Unimpeded, Finn's shift was complete in a matter of seconds, and his wolf form was prowling around, getting accustomed to four feet again. His fur was a sleek dark brown, just like his hair, but streaked on the side with white in a pattern that almost looked like wings. He took off like a rocket and Becky made no attempt to keep up; in human form, she would have been more likely to break a leg than ever catch up to him. He stayed within her sight line, though, and she quickened her pace so he wouldn't have to dawdle.</p><p>Finn zipped back and forth across the trail, tongue lolling out of his mouth as if he were nothing more than a good-natured dog, enjoying a walk through the forest after been cooped up in the yard all week. When they reached the small stream, Becky sat on the bank and took her shoes off, setting them and Finn's bundle on a rock while she dipped her feet into the water. Finn, on the other hand, leapt in joyously, sending up a fan of water that splashed Becky thoroughly. "Hey! Be careful! I have something for you in my pocket, you know!" She had just remembered the fangs from the vampire Rhea had defeated. Part of her had considered keeping them, but she had no idea what she would do with them.</p><p>Finn splashed around for a few more minutes before hauling himself onto the bank and changing back to human. Then he slipped back into the water to rinse off. "Lego?" he asked eagerly. His love of Lego was well known to the pack; he had even designed the first version of their mead hall by first building it with Lego bricks, marking changes and phases with different colours. Some leaders mapped out their moves and strategies with chess pieces or figurines; Finn used Lego bricks.</p><p>"Not quite. Unless vampire fangs are interchangeable." Becky rummaged in her now-sodden pocket until she found the fangs. Now that they were out of the vampire's mouth, they seemed curiously blunt. She set them on her palm, careful to keep her hand away from the water. "Rhea knocked them out of her opponent's mouth at Violent Delights."</p><p>"Who'd she fight?" Finn squeezed some water out of his hair before stepping out of the stream and stretching out on the grass to dry off. </p><p>Becky followed, grabbing their things from the rock and sitting beside him. "Carina Cruz?" She couldn't remember if there was a <i>de la</i> in there; she had been too focussed on Rhea. "Doesn't really ring a bell, but I don't pay much attention to the vamps."</p><p>"You should. <i>We</i> should. They're the next predatory class after us. They may be solitary by nature," Finn warned, "but that doesn't make them any less dangerous. It means they're more used to fighting one on one, where as we can rely too heavily on the strength of the pack."</p><p>Since Finn didn't seem interested in having the fangs, Becky tucked them back in her pocket for the time being. She was equally uninterested in having another leadership lesson, so she decided to change the subject. "Has Rhea called you yet?"</p><p>Finn snorted out a breath, shutting his eyes against the sun as a small smile curved his lips. "We need to work on your subtlety, Rebecca."</p><p>"Right after you work on answering questions," Becky replied, leaning back on her elbows and wiggling her toes. The path wasn't that rough, so she would likely walk back barefoot rather than put her damp feet back in her socks and shoes. "I explained how the number works to her. I'm just curious, that's all."</p><p>"Yes, she called. Yes, she's willing to meet." Finn raised a hand and tapped Becky's knee, his version of knocking on wood for good luck or to avoid a jinx. "What did you think of her?"</p><p>Becky took a moment before replying, basking in the sun. "Strong as hell," she began. "Ruthless, but not maliciously so, if that makes sense. I get the feeling that if there's a job, she'll do it, but she's not going to dismember someone just to prove a point. She knows her worth, which is always a good thing. Especially since she's so young." Becky was almost ten years older than her, and she wished she had possessed a fraction of Rhea's determination and self-assuredness at that age. "But that comes with an ego attached."</p><p>"Not necessarily a bad thing," Finn remarked, rolling over to get some sun on his back. "You need a strong will. That tends to get beaten out of you in The Authority, so I can see why she left."</p><p>"She mentioned a few other Australians you might be interested in," Becky added, "but I don't know how big you want the pack to be. The more wolves you have, the harder it will be to keep control."</p><p>Finn poked her thigh. "The more wolves <i>we</i> have," he corrected quietly. "Did she say much about why she left?"</p><p>Becky shook her head. "Never really asked, though, to be fair. I figured she wasn't the type to like rehashing a story and over, and I knew you would want to talk with her."</p><p>"Becky." It was the name almost everyone used for her, yet somehow when Finn used it, it felt more formal than her full name. He curled up on his side, resting his head on her leg. "Do you regret it? Leaving America and coming back home?"</p><p>There were too many answers to give, most of them contradictory, so Becky didn't reply right away. Wrestling had been her dream as a kid, and at the time, WWE was at the top of that mountain. When she had finally made it to NXT, her dream had been within her grasp—until she saw it being pulled apart, strand by strand, like it was nothing more than cotton candy. She loved Finn and the pack, but on some level she would always feel like she had unfinished business. "No. My family's here. You're here. The pack's here...."</p><p>"That doesn't mean you can't miss what you had elsewhere." Sighing, Finn forced himself to sit up, his knee pressing against Becky's. "Coming home isn't necessarily a bad thing, you know. It's not... a failure, or a retreat. If you weren't making any progress there—or not the progress you wanted—it's better to get out and start over." He draped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "And that goes the same for here. If you're ever not happy or you feel stifled, you need to let me know. I don't want you to feel stuck like that ever again."</p><p>"I know." Becky shut her eyes and let her head fall against his for a moment. "When you left, was it hard?" His path had been even more convoluted than hers: reigning in NXT, ascending to RAW and SmackDown, and then returning to NXT before leaving entirely. At the time, she had watched it all with a mixture of confusion and envy. </p><p>"It... wasn't easy," Finn hedged. Only with her did he feel comfortable enough to show any sort of indecision or vulnerability; with the others, even with devoted wolves like Drew, he tried to maintain a facade of cunning and strength at all times. "But in a way, going back to NXT was what gave me the strength to step away and move on. People can talk about 'big fish in a small pond' all they want, but the spirit in NXT, the community—it reminded me of what a pack <i>should</i> be. I had lost sight of that when Hunter moved me up." Then he chuckled. "Of course, had he known I was going to pillage all his Celts, he likely wouldn't have let me return to NXT in the first place!"</p><p>Even though they had spent several years apart on different wrestling circuits, Becky wasn't really surprised that Finn couldn't find a way to fit within the structure of WWE. "I'm glad he did," she said seriously. "I'm glad we all found each other again."</p><p>"That was the best part." Finn grabbed his clothes and started tugging them on. Like most of the pack, he dressed to the bare minimum around camp, in simple loose clothing that was easy to put on and take off. It was only when they ventured out into the wider world that they gave more consideration to their appearance; Becky certainly didn't miss the long hours of make-up and hair preparation in WWE. "How were the lads? Did they cause you any trouble?"</p><p>Relieved to be on more neutral ground, Becky shook her head. "Just the usual amount. I think they were put out that they didn't get to fight in the pit. Maybe next time," she added with a laugh. "Nikki was a bit star-struck by Rhea, but I can hardly blame her. Rhea's in incredible shape, and she already has such an intensity to her. She's going to go far."</p><p>Finn grabbed Becky's shoes before she could, letting them dangle from one hand while carrying his own in the other. "You can't go back in time, Rebecca. What's done is done," he reminded her gently as they stood. "There's no point dwelling on what might have been. Your injuries, your setbacks: they all served to get you here."</p><p>"I know." Becky didn't necessarily subscribe to the theory that suffering served a purpose; sometimes it just hurt like hell and haunted you afterwards. She didn't feel like having a deep heart-to-heart talk just then, however, so she let it slide. Finn would call her out on it soon enough. "Do you think we need to worry about retaliation? Do you think Hunter will try to get Rhea back?" The Authority hadn't made a concerted effort to retrieve any of the Celts, but she imagined Hunter could only lose so many wolves before Vince would demand action. </p><p>"He didn't really try much with us," Finn said, echoing her thoughts, "but they also invested heavily in Rhea, so I wouldn't put it past them. You'll have to watch out. I don't know who Hunter uses as muscle these days; my inside man hasn't reported in for a while."</p><p>Becky paused as they stepped back on the trail. "<i>I</i> have to watch out? I thought you just wanted me to get in contact with Rhea for you."</p><p>"That was part of it." Finn tugged her forward, giving her little choice but to match his admittedly leisurely pace. "But I also want people to get used to seeing you in power. To respecting your word."</p><p><i>Is it really my word, though?</i> Whether it was Rhea or the gate guard or even the ticket taker at the fight pit, Becky knew they assumed that anything official she said came directly from Finn. It wasn't fair to judge Finn for that, of course; he gave her a lot of leeway—sometimes more than she was comfortable with. But if people assumed she was just speaking for Finn, they were only respecting her as a mouthpiece, not as a leader in her own right. For the longest time, she had shunned the idea of taking on too much power, but talking with Finn had a way of making her feel like she was up to the challenge. "Maybe this isn't the best time to test the theory," she hazarded. "If Hunter does come for her, I don't want to endanger the pack by making the wrong move...."</p><p>"You won't." Finn kissed her cheek as they walked, arms brushing whenever they stepped closer to the centre of the path to avoid an unruly root or branch. "But we can discuss all that later if you like. I should talk to Drew and Sheamus and Nikki to get their insights too, and then we need to plan our next run." Gaze darkening somewhat, he added, "Charlotte tried contacting you again, by the way."</p><p>Becky cringed. In WWE, Charlotte had been her closest friend and best competition—and then she became her biggest obstacle. Vince had decided to make Charlotte his star, which meant all the other women were left in the dark in order to make Charlotte shine all the brighter. Some women were fine with the demotion, happy to simply have matches and the security of a job. For a while, Becky hadn't been much different. But her pride was too loud to be stifled for very long, and then Finn had started assembling his own pack, and it was so easy to look for something better and follow it like a ship heading towards a lighthouse. Despite what Finn said about progress, Becky knew she would always feel, to some degree, like she had given up. "Do you think Hunter's using her to track us?"</p><p>"Becky." The camp was in sight now, but Finn stopped before the mouth of the trail and grabbed Becky's hands. "That's not my concern and you know it. I don't care if Hunter comes for us and no, before you even <i>think</i> it, I don't think you're leaking information to them. I'm worried that she's trying to make you feel guilty for leaving. You owe her nothing, Becky. You need to put yourself first for once."</p><p>The thought of spying or leaking information hadn't even occurred to Becky the first time she got a text from a private number from the United States. She had told Charlotte to stop—nicely at first, then with more insistence, and finally with flat-out cruelty—but her former friend kept trying, albeit not as often or as forcefully. There were so many people Becky missed from her days in WWE—Bayley and Sasha, Cesaro and Naomi—but her feelings for Charlotte were a complicated tangle that would probably never be unravelled. "Sorry. I've told her to stop. I've changed numbers—"</p><p>"I know," Finn chuckled. "I keep updating my contacts and not deleting the old numbers just in case, so it looks like I know ten different Rebeccas."</p><p>Becky laughed. "Well, one could be Becky and then Becks and then Rebecca. Not fond of Becca, but if it's an out-of-service number, I suppose it doesn't matter...." She tried going on, making light of the issue, but Finn's normally bright eyes were shadowed by worry. "What do you want me to do?" she said at last. "If you want me to... to leave the pack after Rhea's meeting, I... I could." Just the thought of being without a pack again made her chest hurt, but she didn't want to bring Hunter's wrath down on her friends and packmates either.</p><p>"You <i>will not</i>." Finn's gaze went steely. "I don't give you many orders, Rebecca, but I will issue that one. You are integral to this pack. We are your family. Your troubles are ours, and we take them on with love. You are not a burden and you never have been. If trouble arises, we'll take care of it. I only told you so you were aware. I didn't want you to think I was keeping things from you." He handed over her shoes almost as an afterthought.</p><p>The vehemence in The Prince's voice made Becky's breath catch and she took a moment to steady herself. "Okay. Did you want me there when you talk with Drew and Sheamus and Nikki?"</p><p>Finn shook his head. "That's fine. You deserve a break from them and a proper sleep. Rest up for tonight's run." He hugged her close and kissed her cheek before taking that final step out of the forest, and within seconds his guards were shadowing him again.</p><p>Becky stood in solitude and silence for a moment, looking down at her shoes. Yesterday had been a long day and today was shaping up to be drawn out as well. When she was in WWE, time had felt like it was slipping away from her, all her chances dissolving, and the same disheartening feeling was creeping into her mind again. It was nothing a nap could banish, but perhaps some ale could. Slipping her shoes back on, she headed to the mead hall to test the theory.</p>
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